The Evolution of Affection
by SergingSturgeon
Summary: No one could imagine that two stubborn individuals with such different outlooks could have an easy relationship. While Lizzy becomes accustomed to her new station in life and Darcy becomes accustomed to his new family, the two live out their lives in varying degrees of harmony.
1. Chapter I

Author's Note: This is the first time I have put anything on the internet in a long time. I hope you like it. This will get somewhat smutty. While this is purely regency, obviously I have just recently come off a Lizzie Bennet Diaries obsession so if shades of that comes out in this don't be surprised.

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Chapter One: Second Impressions

_"Fingertips on the banister, dress fluttering, don't look down..."_

Elizabeth frowned as she caught herself repeating mantras, something she had done constantly in the first year of her marriage. It had been, to her own slight embarrassment, fallen to Georgiana to instruct Elizabeth on the finer points of finer living. Ascending a staircase like a lady, smile when spoken to, start with the outer fork and work in. Though she had been born to a high enough station in life, it was nothing like the manners that had been bred to the bone in her sister - in - law. It had been all she could do to keep it in her head amidst wedding plans, pleasing society and juggling her mother's constant visits and hints for grandchildren.

"Fitz," she said as she ascended, warm smile in place, spine straight as an arrow. He smiled in return, one more natural and less practiced. "I wasn't aware you were coming. I thought Mr. Darcy sent a note? Georgiana is ill, she doesn't require an escort."

Fitz found himself wondering whether she called him Mr. Darcy all the time or did it only for his benefit. He bowed slightly to her over her extended hand when she reached him and lightly brushed his lips over her finger tips. As he straightened he noticed again how much slimmer she was since her marriage, how he was now certain that it was not just because of how much better she held herself.

"Mrs. Darcy."

She winced slightly. At least before her wedding she had occasionally been called Lizzy, or Miss Elizabeth. Sometimes "Mrs." and "Darcy" felt like two different names that described her not at all.

"What are you doing here?" Lizzy smiled as she realized she'd slipped up, mantras or no, and had spoken directly and boldly to a man without first inviting him in to her home and asking after his family. Not, of course, that Fitz had any family worth speaking over.

"Your husband sent a note. He will not be able to attend and requested that I escort you in his place. I, of course, would be honoured."

The change in her was palpable as her smile remained but changed to a fixed one, her hand, still in his, tensed slightly but perceptibly. He so rarely now saw glimpses of the Elizabeth she remembered peer out that he treasured such moments and occasionally endeavoured to bring them out.

"Of course. I thank you. Are you ready to go? Is the carriage ready?"

He nodded and stepped back as her maid bustled forward and wrapped her in something heavy looking and distinctly furry. Mink? He wondered if it had been a birthday present or possibly for an extravagant anniversary. Fitz remembered briefly how it had been to envy Darcy just for his unlimited budget and generous spirit. Like nothing, a passing fancy.

"Colonel, if you would escort me to the carriage?"

She slipped her hand into his elbow. She smiled sideways at him slightly. He was shorter than her husband and their eyes met almost at the same line.

He handed her into her husband's elaborate coach and followed her in. He looked away politely while she discreetly straightened her silk gown. He realized he was used to spending time with her, that they had developed a rapport for such evenings. In an instant he was so mortified for thinking of her in this way that he couldn't think of a single thing to say.

"And how long is your leave, Colonel Fitzwilliam?" she asked. She sent a sideways smirk at him. He entreated her to call him Fitz quite often and she almost always capitulated. It was only in particularly practiced moments that she remembered to call him by her title.

"A fortnight."

They were silent. They both knew his station was all but honorary, a position he was shuffled in to as the second son of a rich man. She found herself wishing that Georgiana had been able to attend along with them, though it would have resulted in an uneven party. Georgiana could typically be counted on to liven up her company. Lizzy counted her as her closest friend. Jane was far too busy being the perfect wife, having slipped in to the role with considerable more ease than her younger sister. Jane, surprising no one, had additionally managed to produce two children within two years of marriage. Charlotte only had one but lived further away. Both of them seemed much busier in their marriages than Lizzy found herself to be. They also had never been escorted to a ball by a man other than their husbands. In Charlotte's case, Lizzy found this to be a terrible pity.

"How are your accomplishments?" he asked vaguely. She contained a giggle. Elizabeth owned to being a decent musician and a sub-par painter. She had neither the talents of her sister - in - law or even as most of her sisters. She did not mind Georgiana as a rival and her sisters' opinion was unimportant, as she would always reign supreme over them by marrying to such a high station.

"I am becoming quite the horsewoman. I attempted to walk to Lambton and Georgiana would have none of it. Usually the girl is easily quelled, but she insisted. She informed me that I would be quite on par with herself at the age of eleven."

Fitz let out a snort of laughter. He tried to imagine the wives of any of his other acquaintances speaking so and he could not. Even her own scandalous younger sister was far too self aware to qualify. Lizzy attempted to better herself but simply was the way she was. She gave him a sideways look that reminded him of how she had looked before she had married Darcy, as a girl that even he had noticed. He shook such thoughts aside. Even he was sometimes intimidated by the newly made Mrs. Darcy. Her balls and soirées were the talk of the county and she kept Pemberley running with unprecedented smoothness. It was even said in certain circles that she was handling Georgiana's entrance into society with perfect grace. If occasionally it was muttered afterward that this was because of her experience in watching her mother hoist her own daughters on society, no one held this against her.

They alighted as the carriage reached the imposing mansion of the neighbouring estate. Fitz comfortingly squeezed Elizabeth's small hand as she stepped out of the carriage. Despite her accomplishments, despite how hard she had worked, he knew that she still found it all to be somewhat bothersome and even intimidating. If no one had ever spent a particular amount of attention on the second Bennet girl, besides to find her handsome enough and quite well spoken, no one ever refrained from noticing the Lady Darcy, wealthiest and most envied woman in the surrounding counties.

If any of the neighbours found it odd that she was escorted by her husband's cousin and not her husband, they said nothing of it. Calmly and collected she first greeted the hostess, then her closest friends, and then stood to allow any others to come to her. One saving grace of her marriage was not having to try so hard. She remembered with embarrassment her mother pushing her toward uncomfortable conversations with lecherous older men, having to dance with them and pretend everything they said was fascinating. Darcy was a perfect dance partner.

"_When,"_ she thought rebelliously, "_He bothers to show up at all."_

Dinner had ended and the first notes of a quadrille had begun when she noted his absence again. Dear Fitz was with her but he was not the dancer her husband was. She was used to dancing with Darcy now. It was nothing like their first disastrous occasion. They knew each other's rhythms perfectly. She so strongly associated it with her married life that she wasn't certain how her body would react to another man.

He had just risen and offered her his hand when a questioning look over her left shoulder piqued her interest. She followed his gaze and smiled in relief at the sight of her husband, somewhat unkempt but none the worse for wear. He reached them quickly with his long strides and took her hand.

"I am sorry, my dear. An urgent matter on the state. I trust Fitz took good care of you?" Darcy flashed a careless smile at his good friend and Fitz returned it rather weakly. Was it just him or had Darcy somehow grown both taller and broader since his marriage? It made Elizabeth look even smaller and more delicate. He slid his arm about his wife's waist in preparation to lead her to the floor and Fitz straightened the elbow he had prepared to offer her, feeling foolish.

He watched as Darcy led his wife on to the dance floor. Was it his imagination, or did the other dancers give them a wide berth, as if to call attention to them? They were difficult to tear the eye away from.

Fitz rolled his eyes as he found himself waxing poetical. He looked around the room for a suitable partner and was unsurprised to find many of the local maidens making eyes at him. Title without wealth did go a long way, after all.


	2. Chapter II

Chapter Two: At Home

Fitzwilliam Darcy stepped quietly into his bedroom and leaned against the door frame as he waited for his wife to notice him. She had evidently dismissed her Lady's maid as she was undoing her silver earrings and carefully removing the pins from her long hair. He had always enjoyed being able to view her thus, in ways that no other man was permitted to. This is what he had wondered about during his long courtship of her.

She smiled at him in the mirror when she noticed his presence. He sauntered over to her as she loosened the last of her hair and it fell to her waist in a loose coil. He grabbed it and tugged it slightly between his fingers.

"Not too angry, I hope?" he asked nonchalantly.

"No. Fitz was pleasant enough. I'm sure he enjoyed being free to dance with the young girls and not an old married lady such as myself."

She had stood. Though she was wearing a heavy robe to ward away the chill, underneath it she was clad in an almost sheer nightgown that she had left untied at the neck.

In an instant he had lifted her on to her dressing table and was pulling her nightgown up to her waist. She blushed and wondered briefly if other men were accustomed to making love to their wives thusly. Certainly the genteel Mr. Bingley would never have Jane upright, or during the daytime, or astride him. Certainly Mrs. Bennet had never prepared her that it would be like this, during their brief discussions of the topic.

"Did you close the door?" she asked, as he began to kiss her neck. He looked up at her in surprise and was filled with a familiar desire to possess her completely. He still felt like something was missing, that he had not been satisfied in the desires that she had first stirred in him so long ago. She was so calm, so collected. Though these were qualities she was required to have, he still remembered harboring fantasies that she would become his and cease to think of anything but him, that he would know every secret behind her dark eyes. In this way she kept him her slave. He wondered if she was aware of it.

"Let them watch."

He touched her between her legs and felt with satisfaction that at least her body had responded to his. He had not been aware before his marriage that women sometimes needed preparation, that they liked it more this way and were more appreciative afterwards. He found the spot that had generally wielded him the best results and gently stroked her there. She stiffened and pushed her body in to his. Shyly she reached out and pressed a hang against his chest, faintly feeling his heart beat underneath coarse hair and hard muscles.

He thrust up inside of her in one motion and without meaning to she let out a brief gasp of pain. Immediately she was embarrassed, mostly because that what she had learned of intercourse prior to marriage had taught her that she was at the very least to succumb to it with a brave face. He frowned and slowed his tempo as her body grew used to him.

It was different than he had expected. Every one of the relatively few women he had lain with had been outwardly eager, always ready, always praising. He had been surprised when he had first laid her down on his ornate bed and she had been scared and he had caused her so much pain. He wondered if other women felt pain and denied it or if Elizabeth was different because he (of course) had never been with another of such high birth. Darcy's father had never said anything on the subject and there was no one else he had ever spoken with about it. He still had to be gentle not to hurt her. He still, when inside her, sometimes felt as if there was a part of her that he had never touched.

She let out a moan and he finished instantly, so entranced by her. In these flashes he still felt the same as when she had looked up in to his eyes for the first time and told him she returned his love. So consumed, desperate for her.

Lizzy smiled up at her husband when he lifted her off the table and carried her to their bed.

"All right?" he asked.

"Perfect, darling."

He laid her down on the mattress and stared down at her for a moment.

"I apologize if I caught you unawares."

"Don't think on it. Jane and I spoke on the subject once and both agreed it was important to cede to one's husband's demands with a smile on one's face."

He was relieved when she shot him a jovial look.

"Yes, one would imagine Jane Bingley as being very accommodating."

He settled in to bed beside his wife and curled his body around hers.

"No sign yet?" he asked, trying to make it sounded absentminded. He hated bringing it up but he couldn't stand to not do so. The idea that Bingley and Wickham and every man he knew was capable of something that he was not was mortifying.

"None so far," she admitted.

He fell silent. He thought of years ago, of telling Bingley how obvious it was that Jane returned his affection to an infinitely lesser degree. He wondered, not for the first time, if Lizzy had married him not for love, not for money, but for gratitude.

When Darcy awoke the next morning he was alone in his bed. He went downstairs to find Elizabeth presiding over the breakfast table, her breakfast ignored in favour of a letter written in Jane Bingley's practiced, girlish hand.

"Mrs. Darcy," he said in greeting. She looked up and smiled her practiced smile.

"Mr. Darcy. I have received a letter from Jane."

He held out his hand for it and she meekly passed it along to him.

"She wishes to come here?" he asked. She nodded.

"Charles is in London for the season and she is quite lonely."

Lizzy found herself failing to mention that she had stayed behind for her confinement and then a spell in bed after a taxing childbirth.

"Well by all means. Will Mrs. Wickham be with her?"

Lizzy blushed slightly. Mr. Darcy had made it plain that while Lydia was welcome under their roof anytime she wished, her husband was not extended the same honour.

"No. On the road again, I believe. She never wishes to stay at Pemberley for long. She finds it dull."

Certainly Lydia had found married life duller than she had expected to. Perhaps beneficially for their marriage, George spent long periods away from her and she typically resided with Jane.

"Of course. Will she bring the children?"

"Of course. You know she cannot bear to be without them."

She had said it without thinking but it caused them both to make almost imperceptible winces.

Sparing them both from discussing the matter further, Georgiana Darcy appeared in the room.

"Darling. Feeling better?"

Elizabeth and Georgiana passed secretive looks to one another that led him to believe that this was a discussion he was not party to.

"Much. How was the ball?"

"Delightful. You were much missed. The local bachelors were breaking their heart over you," said Darcy. Georgiana blushed. There was no denying she was the most desirable bride in the county, but at seventeen was still unmarried and still unsure of how to discern the noble suitors from the immoral. Elizabeth could comprehend this problem but had no experience with it and generally tended to disregard all of Georgiana's suitors as unworthy. While Darcy professed to find this unhelpful, he was in no great hurry to marry off his sister.

"Did you turn away Colonel Fitzwilliam? Was he terribly embarrassed?" asked Georgiana. Darcy and Elizabeth exchanged glances.

"No dear. He attended with us and had a lovely time. Don't think on it."

Georgiana sat down and ceased easily to think upon it.

"What are you ladies up to today?" asked Darcy.

"I was thinking we could ride in to town," suggested Lizzy brightly, looking at her sister - in - law. She frowned as Georgiana's face instantly took on the shocked look that Lizzy now recognized as her etiquette break shock.

"It's Tuesday, Lizzy. We must stay home for callers today."

Lizzy groaned inwardly. "Of course."

Darcy went out because he was a man and he was allowed. Lizzy changed in to a morning dress, had her maid do her hair in perfect curls, and joined Georgiana downstairs just as the bell rang and the first of the insipid callers made their way toward her parlour.

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Author's note: Thanks for all the reviews and follows. I hope you like this one, too.


	3. Chapter III

Chapter Three

Lizzy smiled in relief when upon being announced, Colonel Fitzwilliam entered her parlour. She stood a moment after Georgiana and copied the younger girl's more perfect curtsey. He went first to Georgiana, praising her beauty and kissing her on one cheek before going to sit beside Elizabeth.

"Have you ladies been keeping yourself busy? I saw Mrs. Grange leaving on my way in, have you been hearing of the virtues of her bachelor son?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at Georgiana. She blushed and looked down.

"Most terribly. I need not attend at all," said Lizzy airily. He smiled.

"Yes, I can see that that would be a terrible hardship for you." Lizzy looked torn between looking embarrassed and a new look that she was developing, her Mistress of Pemberley look.

"It is our duty to stay at home and entertain callers," said Georgiana primly. Fitz looked at her.

"On Tuesdays."

"Yes, on Tuesdays."

The Colonel had nothing to say to this. He looked down and noted that Georgiana was embroidering something on a pillowcase and that Lizzy was mending one of Darcy's shirts. He had a sudden and unexpected wave of longing for a pretty woman to sit at home, waiting for him and mending his shirt. He then thought of how the idea of a woman waiting at home for him was in theory pleasant; but that two years of sitting at home and waiting for Darcy had brought about irrevocable changes. He had wanted her to change, encouraged her to change, and made her a shell of herself in the process.

He chided himself for once again thinking too deeply about the psyche of the wife of his best friend.

Fitz looked up to find Georgiana staring curiously at him and he blushed.

All three stood up when the footman came in to announce another caller but no one followed him in. Lizzy looked at him questioningly and he addressed the lady of the house.

"Mrs. Darcy, your brother - in - law has arrived and wishes to speak with your privately," he said. She frowned.

"Bingley?"

"No, madame." He tried but failed to sneak a look at Georgiana and Lizzy at once understood. The staff found it so uncomfortable and Georgiana found it so abhorrent that it was almost unmentioned at the house that Wickham was her brother - in - law.

"Lizzy, it's still morning," said Georgiana desperately.

"It's afternoon. I'll go speak to him, I won't let him in," she promised. She stood and held her hand out to a maid, who handed her a shawl. She abandoned her mending on a chair.

"I'll walk you out," offered Fitz. She slipped his hand through his elbow and followed him into the hall where Wickham was waiting.

George Wickham was standing in the middle of the vast entry hall, observing his childhood home. To Lizzy he was beginning to look coarse, rather common. Change opinions of him had made him less handsome in her eyes and the years of drinking and dissolute living had begun to catch up to him.

"Dear sister," he said, upon seeing her. She curtsied but only slightly. She was by far his social better and he all but lived on the charity of her husband.

Fitz watched uncomfortably as George Wickham did an obvious once over her figure. Elizabeth had only become more attractive since her marriage, with better clothing and an enhanced toilette. Since her own marriage Lydia had become chubbier and somewhat more desperate looking. George regretted sometimes that he had not picked Lizzy, not realizing that if he had picked her (had it been an option) she would not have ended up like this.

"Mr. Wickham. I wasn't aware you were in the neighborhood."

"Just recently. I was wondering if I might walk with you around the gardens?"

"Were you planning on meeting your wife here? Jane is planning to come here but I thought Lydia intended to go to Longbourn."

"Alas, my wife and I have not crossed paths in some time. A walk, Mrs. Darcy?"

Elizabeth relented and walked over to Wickham. An irate Fitz opened his mouth to protest but found he had nothing concrete to say. Fitz felt the familiar feeling of being entirely flummoxed when being in the presence of a handsomer man and a desirable woman. He watched as Wickham and Elizabeth walked out the front door, arm in arm.

* * *

Out in the gardens Lizzy led Wickham around the fountain and past the prized rose bushes, carefully evading his attempts to lead her to the orchard and the gravel path - the more private parts of the grounds. She opened up her parasol to shield her skin from the weakly shining sun and prepared to make small talk. She knew what Wickham was here for, but had no intention of making it easier for him than absolutely necessary.

"I daresay I don't recall receiving your note that you were to be in the neighbourhood, Mr. Wickham. Had we but the advance warning we might have prepared you a room."

This was a blatant lie. Wickham was allowed to stay in their house for a maximum of two nights and only when Lydia was also present. It was a firmly established rule that had never been explained to Wickham in so many words, but one he grasped easily.

"Yes, I was rather in a hurry."

He looked down at her. She looked better than she had as a younger woman. Thinner, paler, even her features seemed somehow lovelier. He wondered vaguely if she could be induced to have an affair with him. Probably not, he rationalized. She had never looked at him the same after finding out about that whole mess with Georgiana.

"I came to speak with your husband. Is he at home?"

Lizzy realized that George had come specifically at a time that he knew Darcy would not be at home. She wondered how much money it would take for him to go away. And if Georgiana could be induced to not mention his visit. Fitz would comply easily, he no more wanted to deal with the storm than Lizzy did.

"No, he is not. Perhaps I can help," she said.

"Perhaps. I have a matter to attend to in London. I planned to stop in Meryton to get money for train fair but the detestable banker won't cash my cheque. I was hoping my dear brother - in - law could be prevailed upon to advance me the money? I would send the amount in full once I reached London, of course," said Wickham.

"Of course," echoed Lizzy. She found she did not have the energy to verbally spar with him. She nodded her consent when he named a number that was within the amount of money she kept on her, funds which Darcy gave her as allowance.

On several occasions she had been able to get Wickham out of her house quickly and quietly enough that Darcy would never know he had been there. This was the first time that she had been unable to keep it from Georgiana.

Wickham departed from the garden, abruptly dropping his pretence of wanting to see Darcy. She looked after him in some resentment as he swung himself up onto a stallion she had all but paid for. Elizabeth was not in the habit of lying to her husband and did it as seldom as possible. Wickham, after all these years, was still a tricky subject between them.

Elizabeth walked back towards the house and into the entrance hall, where Fitz was still waiting for her. He stared her down as he approached.

"What did he want?" asked Fitz. She raised an eyebrow at him.

"What do you think?"

"Will we be discussing this with Darcy over supper?" he asked. He followed her as she began to walk back toward the parlour.

"That is none of your business," she said coolly.

"Lizzy…"

"Colonel Fitzwilliam."

He stopped abruptly as she whirled back to face him, her face red with fury.

"What goes on in my marriage is **none** of your business. It is not your marriage. It could never have been your marriage. After all younger sons cannot marry where they like, can they?"

He knew she was not really angry with him but he still recoiled. She had never spoken to him like this. He had never seen him speak to anyone like this. He had barely seen her raise her voice in two years. He had never heard him mention their flirtation, ever.

"He wanted to borrow money. Obviously. He borrowed and he left. I am going to talk to my sister about it and we are going to agree not to discuss it with Darcy because it is not worth the discussion. You, I suggest, are going to go home."

Fitz nodded and bowed slightly at her. She took a deep breath, regained her composure, and went back in to the parlour to rejoin Georgiana.

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Author's note: You guys have been great, thanks. If you want to ask me a question feel free to PM or ask me in a review, I feel like some of you are getting a darker view of this than I intended. All will be made clear in time. Flashbacks are planned for an entire chapter soon.


	4. Chapter IV

Chapter Four

Darcy came upon his wife writing a letter on her desk in the library. He walked over to where she was sitting without her noticing him and sat down on the bench beside her.

"Elizabeth," he said, greeting her. He put his hand on hers and she startled slightly.

"I didn't hear you come in," she said.

"You're alone? Where is Georgiana?" he asked.

"In her room. I believe she is resting."

Darcy grabbed Lizzy around the waist and pulled her up to stand. She laughed in surprise when he pulled her in to his arms and twirled her around the room.

"What are you doing?"

"Need I a reason to dance with my wife? You seemed gloomy. Whom were you writing?"

"My aunt."

"Did you have a trying time with the callers?" he persisted. She looked up into his eyes for a moment. He looked genuinely happy, his face was open and eager for her to connect with him. She pictured how his face would look if she explained her day.

"Not at all. Just like always."

"I believe those to be contradictory statements. Would you like to go out?" he asked. He twined his fingers with hers.

"Where?"

"The garden. I could show you the new foal," he said. Lizzy smiled.

"Duchess delivered?" Darcy had mated his favourite horse against one of the mares recently and had been very much looking forward to the result.

"Yes, a stallion. He's going to be magnificent." Lizzy nodded. She was more interested in horses than she had been upon her marriage, but she was no more excited than she would have been than over a new dog or a particularly clean kitten.

"I'm glad you're pleased," she said. Her genuine smiled had slipped into something forced.

"I want you to be pleased. Always."

Elizabeth smiled and slipped her arm through his. She started to walk but stopped and turned to face him when he didn't start as well.

"You are, aren't you? Pleased?" she looked into his hopeful expression.

"About the new horse?" she asked.

_"About our life together,_" he said silently. It seemed too big of a question for a beautiful spring day when his wife was smiling at him. He took her shawl from her and wrapped it carefully around her white shoulders.

"Yes, the new horse."

"Of course."

* * *

Elizabeth and Darcy walked to the stables where she agreeably enthused over the new foal. If privately she felt that it was spindly and somewhat slimy, she did not find it necessary to say so.

She started to speak but could think of nothing that would not lead directly to an awkward silence on their childless state.

"I ran into Fitz on my way in," remarked Darcy. "He seemed rather flustered."

"Oh? He was receiving with us this morning but I had not seen him since."

Darcy looked down at his wife. He remembered vividly what it had been like to watch Fitz flirt easily with Lizzy at Rosings. He remembered distinctly envying how easily it had come to Fitz, how quickly he had made Lizzy like him in contrast to how much he had immediately made her hate him. Fitz was less attractive and less wealthy than Darcy was but it had always been this way. Lizzy still liked him very much and Darcy enjoyed how much his wife got along with his closest friends and relations.

"My friends used to come and see me, you know. My sister used to come running down the stairs when I get home… I procure her a sister and it's as if I don't exist," said Darcy in lamentation. Elizabeth looked up at him and smiled.

"Yes, it's a tragic life you lead. Assuredly one would rather their spouse be despised at home and in larger social circles," she said.

"Indeed. I should have been more careful in my choice of wife, surely one less beautiful and more shrill would have done nicely."

"I have encountered several such ladies in the neighbourhood. Surely any one of them would have loved to have been your bride."

"Should have seen their mothers' throwing them at me. They all but had me compromise their reputations."

Elizabeth frowned slightly. It was strange for her, to have needed to keep her reputation spotless while her husband had not. It would have been strange if he had come to their bed as a virgin, as she had.

"Of course, I never had any desire to compromise any of them. I never had any desire, until I met you. I usually trust my instincts and they were right about you. You have made me very happy."

Darcy stopped on the path and turned his wife to face him.

"Have I made you very happy, Elizabeth?"

"Will…" Finding it too cumbersome to call her husband "Fitzwilliam" and being mostly used to referring to him as "Darcy", Elizabeth only seldom referred to him by his first name and used a diminutive when she did so. "I have always been happy that I married you. I am glad that I no longer trust my instincts. It's just harder than I thought it would be."

Darcy frowned and remembered months of Georgiana delicately remonstrating her, of Lizzy growing thinner and her skin losing its tan under lace parasols.

He wanted to grab her in his arms and kiss her until she smiled her old Lizzy smile, until she ran in bare feet and rolled her eyes behind her mother's back. But he had tried and she didn't.

* * *

The next morning, Fitz was back in the house for a reason Darcy had not discerned and they both watched as Georgiana and Lizzy sat down before the pianoforte and the latter tried her best to follow the former in duets. Fitz looked sideways at Darcy and recognized a familiar look of contemplation.

"To have her, you always had to change her. You knew that," he said quietly.

Darcy nodded and observed that Georgiana had stopped playing and Lizzy was performing solo. She was much, much better than she had once been.

* * *

Author's note: This is short, sorry. Next chapter (and possibly the one after) is flashbacks. Thanks for reading!


	5. Chapter V

Chapter Five

First:

Lizzy let out a peal of laughter as she whipped her head over her shoulder and ran around a corner. Her hair was coming loose and tendrils of it were flying after her. She looked hurriedly for her pursuer and to see if her mother had emerged from the house or heard the shouts of mirth they were making.

She cried out as she collided heavily with a broad male chest. His hands grabbed her forearms and she feigned a brief struggle.

"I caught you," he said triumphantly. She linked her arms around his neck.

"Maybe I let you."

With covert glances around themselves they moved further into the bushes. He immediately moved down to kiss her, one hand tangling in her mussed hair and the other forcibly held back from touching her more intimately. Her hands tightened around his neck and she found herself pulling him down toward her, and she felt his body press against hers for the first time. His hand wound around her waist and he lightly fingered the curve of her hip, felt the skin under her gown that he had only dreamed about. She tilted her head back and gasped as he moved his lips down to kiss the sensitive skin of her neck.

He abruptly pushed her away from him, panting roughly. He held his hands before her as if to ward her off.

"Will?" she asked in surprise. She was still gasping, flushed, her lips red, her cheeks flushed. He had never wanted her more.

"We can't. I can't stop, I need to stop." She took a step back.

"Oh."

"You are a lady, and I need to behave towards you as a gentleman should treat a lady."

"I'm sorry," she said awkwardly.

"I began it."

"It is my responsibility to remain chaste," she said.

"Only for a little while longer," he replied. He grabbed one of her hands and held it.

"Will…"

"You are beautiful and I love you. I have thought of little else since soon after I met you. There is no reason to be frightened," he said. She smiled at him. He felt like he would never tire of her smiling at him.

He had kissed her before. Briefly, in stolen moments in the gardens or very occasionally in her parents' parlour. She had never felt her whole body respond like this to his. She had had no idea.

Darcy brushed a loose tendril behind her ear.

"You must go back inside to your mother. What were you doing out here?" he asked.

"Waiting for you. I dislike greeting you before Kitty and Mary," she said.

"I preferred your greeting without them," he admitted. He leaned toward her and dropped a kiss on her temple. "You must go back inside to your mother before I stop restraining myself."

Lizzy backed slowly away and then ran the rest of the way in to the house. She encountered Jane in the hall, who widened her eyes when she saw her and immediately started fixing her wayward hairstyle.

"Eliza, what on Earth were you doing?" she asked, scandalized.

"Nothing I'm sure you haven't done in the garden," said Lizzy, smiling. Her newfound excitement and Darcy's words to her made her bolder, made her gleam understanding of matters that had previously been mysterious to her.

"Lizzy, I have no idea what you mean. You shouldn't have been alone with Mr. Darcy. Anyone could have seen you. Did you allow him to kiss you?" she asked, looking torn between scandalized and curious.

"Just a little." Her bravado was wearing off. She now felt unkempt and slightly embarrassed.

"Really, Lizzy? You shouldn't."

Both of them looked up as Darcy walked through the front door and awkwardly looked between them. Jane raised an eyebrow delicately.

"Good morning, Miss Bennet, Miss Lizzy."

"Mr. Darcy. Please join us in the parlour," said Jane, upon realizing that Lizzy was tongue tied. Lizzy shot a coy look over her shoulder before following her sister down the hall.

* * *

Second

Elizabeth found herself surprisingly tranquil as her mother and three sisters (Lydia had not come back home for either of her sisters' weddings) buzzed around her, fixing her hair and brushed imaginary lint off the lace overlay of her dress. Kitty occasionally wandered off to twirl around in her bridesmaids dress and Mary pretended ineffectively to not be pleased about her own.

"You look beautiful, Eliza," said her mother fondly. Lizzy, for once, felt extremely beloved of her mother.

"Not as beautiful as Jane on hers," said Lizzy fondly, grabbing her sister's hand and meeting her eyes in the mirror. Jane was still glowing with the same newlywed glow that she had sported since her wedding.

"Oh shush. Kitty, Mary, would you leave us?" asked Mrs. Bennet. Kitty pouted and had to be all but dragged out by her elder sister.

Lizzy looked apprehensively at her elder sister while her mother sat on a chair opposite her.

"Now Lizzy dear, tonight is your wedding night," she began.

"Yes."

"It is time we discuss these matters. Jane and I had this discussion on her wedding day so it is acceptable for her to be here with us, though I would prefer you not mention anything to Kitty or Mary."

Lizzy privately found it doubtful that neither Kitty nor Marry knew of such matters. Lydia had not been discreet since her marriage.

"Oh?" said Lizzy lamely.

"Tonight, or perhaps not until you get home to Pemberley, Darcy will come in to your room and try to make a baby with you. He might hurt you but it will not last very long and if a baby is coming he won't visit your room at all. He will enjoy himself while he does so and will think better of you if you don't complain and smile at him when he is done."

Lizzy looked between her mother and Jane in amazement.

"Will I enjoy it?" she asked, when words finally came to her.

"There's not much to enjoy about it," said Jane frankly. "It's not terrible."

Lizzy rearranged her face into what she hoped was a thoughtful expression. Darcy had given her cause to hope that their marriage would be pleasurable for both of them and she found herself feeling disappointed. Instantly she wondered if this was wanton, too. She recalled pressing her body up against his in the garden and blushed. This, it seemed, was the proper reaction.

"Pray that soon you will have a baby, a son. It will all be well," said Mrs. Bennet comfortingly. Lizzy stood and Jane carefully did a last once over, carefully smoothing out her wedding gown. Jane, as a married woman, was not to be her bridesmaid but Elizabeth cherished her presence.

The rest was a blur - the church, her father walking her down the aisle, Darcy smiling at her as she agreed to become his wife. A lavish post wedding celebration at Netherfield during which she found she could not stop smiling and Darcy did not let go of her hand. Her sisters and mother crying as Darcy handed her into a lavish carriage.

They arrived late at Pemberley. It was dark out but the windows of the house were still lit. Lizzy thought it even more beautiful than she had previously thought and could not believe it was now her own.

"Welcome home, love," he murmured, his lips tickling her ear. The carriage stopped before the wide steps leading up to the front door of the house. He helped her out of the carriage and took her hand to walk up with her to the front door. As they approached it swung open, revealing a small grouping of similarly dressed servants and he leaned down to lift her in his arms to carry her over the threshold.

Darcy led her through hasty introductions to his key household staff, who greeted her as Mrs. Darcy and seemed genuinely delighted to see her. He was reluctantly led off to discuss an important matter with his steward while she was led up to their chambers by the housekeeper.

Their bedroom was large and accessed through a small room containing a small sofa, several chairs and a writing desk. In the bedroom itself a young and rather plain woman was waiting. She was introduced to Lizzy as Nan and she quickly found herself sat before her. Her hands were gentle but unfamiliar to Lizzy, who had previously had her hair almost entirely handled by Jane. In a time span that to her seemed astonishing she was undressed, a nightgown pulled over her head and her curls arranged evocatively around her shoulders.

Without more than two words to her new mistress the girl vanished. Lizzy looked around the room in confusion, wondering when Darcy was planning to be back and thinking how strange it was to be alone in a bedroom and waiting for a man. She considered going to the bed and laying under the covers but neither wished to fall asleep while waiting or appear presumptuous when he got there. She sat down before her dressing table and fiddled with her hair, ruining the good work of her maid in the process.

She heard the doorknob turn and stood and then sat again before a foot arrived in the room. She was still sitting when he arrived entirely in the room, dressed still in his travelling clothes though now without his hat. She stood again, feeling awkward, and felt his eyes greedily take in her form in her nearly diaphanous nightdress.

"Elizabeth," he murmured, the name containing all his longing, pent up for so long. He took a step toward her.

* * *

Author's note: I was going to try and fit all the flashbacks in this chapter but it got long so I broke it up in to two chapters. You can expect the new one soon, sorry it took so long to get this one up.

There may be some slight geographical errors in this chapter, it was for ease of writing. Thanks for reading!


	6. Chapter VI

Chapter VI

* * *

Author's note: I have not updated recently and it is because I am the worst. I was out of the country. Just a reminder, we are still in flashbacks.

* * *

Darcy walked toward her, shedding his overcoat and hurriedly untying his necktie as he walked. His hands were all over her body as soon as he reached her and she reflected that it was strange to be touched so intimately, to have discouraged physical contact besides occasional hugs with her sisters for so long only now to have a man she had known for a little over a year touching her everywhere.

Instinctively she reached out and began to undo his shirt, her hands fumbling awkwardly. He was kissing her like he had kissed her in the garden but harder, more urgently. She kissed him back like she had wanted to without thought for her mother, for her sisters running by. He was touching her and he was kissing her and she could barely remember having other thoughts.

"God, do you know how long I've wanted you?" he murmured. Somehow he had hitched her nightdress up to her waist and was exploring her skin under it.

His shirt came off all the way and she placed her hands on his bare chest. It was hairier than she had imagined, and broader as well. He seemed larger to her than he normally did, standing barefoot before her. He kissed her again and she pulled herself unabashedly further into his arms, pressed her barely covered self against his uncovered chest. This is what it had all been leading to, she realized. Every time she had become flustered in his presence, every time she had blushed under his stare. It had been leading toward this and she had wanted it the whole time, without knowing it.

With a groan he lifted her in to his arms and walked her to the bed. He sat down on the edge of it with her in his lap, still clad in her nightgown. She had half expected him to drop her on his bed and have his way with her, and she had half wanted him to. It would have fit in with what her mother had taught her. He put a hand on the side of her face, half buried in her hair. He was panting heavily. Elizabeth had never seen him with emotion so raw in his eyes, looking half crazed. Even when he had proposed to her, even when she had finally accepted him.

Darcy cradled her head in his hand and moved in to kiss her again. His hand was again up and under her nightgown, exploring the bare skin of her thighs. She puts hers tentatively on his waistline, just above his belt.

He pulled away from her. She was flushed and smiling.

"I take it your mother has explained things to you?" he asked. His hand found her breast and he gave it a light squeeze. He ran a thumb over her nipple, delighted to see her tense slightly, her eyes sliding closed as the peak of it hardened under her nightgown.

"The very basics of it. Lydia explained some of the rest," she explained. "Mostly just winking from Lydia and uncomfortable silences with my mother."

"I am going to undress you," he began. One handed, he undid the ties of her nightgown and slid down one side of it, revealing a bare shoulder. He kissed her collarbone. "And lay you out on my bed. And then, I fear, I am going to hurt you."

She frowned. Though both Jane and her mother had mentioned it, she had begun to forget their talk of pain in the wake of such a pleasant awakening to what their life together could be like.

"Why?" she asked, her voice small.

"Because… Your body is not accustomed to the act. When you become accustomed to it, it will no longer cause you pain," he explained.

"And then I will like it?" she asked. He pulled her back in to him and kissed her, hard.

"God, I would wish for nothing else."

His hand found the place beneath her legs. She let out a gasp of surprise as he touched her but did not push him away. He carefully explored her with his fingers, stopping and moving his fingers in a circular motion when she let out a gasp and rested her forehead against his chest. She was wet for him and as he continued to stroke her, her gasps gave away to sighs of pleasure and she moved over him, her body exciting him through several layers of cloth. He found himself wanting only to please her, for her body to push toward his, for her to continue making the same sounds. Blindly he reached out to cup her breast in one hand as he ran his lips over the skin at the base of her neck.

They both stood and he pulled off her nightgown. She lay back on the bed, watching in interest as he fully undressed himself. She had only known what to expect what she had seen in works of art, what she had gleamed of the male form from seeing men dressed. His manhood was shocking to her but not strictly unpleasant. Her eyes were dark, hungry. He had been worried she would be docile in their marriage bed, in the way that he knew Jane Bennet and most of his friend's wives to be. Kissing her in the garden, her kissing him back, had only inflamed his desire for her and made the following weeks torturous. He stared at her, naked in his bed, for only a moment before joining her on the bed.

Darcy carefully stretched herself on top of her and stared down into his eyes. He had anticipated, for what seemed like years, making her truly his but now that the occasion had arrived he found himself nervous. About not being worthy of her, of not fulfilling her expectations.

"I love you," she murmured. No words had ever meant so much to him. He leaned down to kiss her and carefully guided himself inside of her.

Afterward she was sore but somewhat happy. He held her against him and kissed her hair, feeling finally at peace.

"Was it so bad, my Lizzy?" he asked her tenderly.

"In a way," she admitted. He smiled. He could not imagine any other woman admitting to such a thing. "I think I will like it more later."

"I think you will, too."

"Your first time did not hurt?"

Her question was casual but he detected a hint of jealousy and a slight distaste behind her words.

"No," he admitted. "It is not the same."

A whirl of images flashed before his mind - loud music, George Wickham throwing around money with a girl on either arm, women winking at him encouragingly. Even the mention of such an act had no place in the room with them, their bed as a married couple. It was distasteful and he found himself wishing she would not ask him anything about it.

He pressed a kiss to the nape of her neck and felt her body respond to him. He made a mental note of where her body seemed to most appreciate him most and felt confident that in time, he would enjoy such things as much as he did.

* * *

Third

The following weeks passed in a blur of extra social engagements, happy evenings at home with Lizzy and Georgiana, and what seemed like a constant stream of lovemaking. Darcy could not remember having been so happy. He had long thought of Elizabeth as being the most beautiful girl in any room and with her new gowns, perfectly dressed hair and constant glow he was pleased and proud to note that most other men seemed to agree with him. She was bewitching. He felt a slight nagging thought that it would truly be perfect if they were to have a child, but he was sure things would sort themselves out in time.

He was thinking these thoughts, and of how happy he was in his marriage, when Caroline Bingley and her sister Louisa came to call on Spring afternoon. He was surprised to see them, but only slightly. They were travelling around the country and had mentioned a possibility of them being in the neighbourhood and stopping in. At the time Elizabeth had let out a noise that was almost a scoff and said she found it was very likely they would indeed, but she had clearly since forgotten as she was not at home and nowhere to be found.

Darcy suggested they sojourn to the parlour but the sisters declared they would prefer a walk. It was a beautiful day. Darcy quickly agreed and led them out of doors, vaguely hoping they would run in to Elizabeth or at least Georgiana to help conversation flow more easily. Darcy found that Caroline still looked at him like a fox on the hunt and almost always managed to drop a sly remark about his marriage that he invariably felt too gentlemanly to reply to. His Lizzy could typically be counted upon to drop something equally calculating yet subtle, a practice Georgiana despaired of. Idly Darcy found himself wondering how Georgiana's pet project of teaching Lizzy to be the Mistress of Pemberly was advancing.

Normally Darcy didn't mind his grounds full of his servants milling about and going on about their duties, but he knew that Caroline and Louisa preferred their servants to be neither seen nor heard. He found it to be somewhat affected, that they tried too hard to prove how far above the help they were. Darcy, seeing it as their home as well, did not mind. He sensed conflict arising when he saw one walking toward them holding the hand of a small child.

He felt his heart lurch in his chest when he recognized the figure coming toward them. He could think of nothing to stop impending disaster and furthermore could not, as Caroline Bingley had far sharper eyes than he himself did. He continued walking and steeled himself up to face the inevitable.

"Mrs. Darcy!" rang out Caroline's voice, almost gleefully, as they approached. Elizabeth looked up in evident surprise. She was hand in hand with a child that Darcy now recognized as the cook's.

Elizabeth bobbed a slight curtsey. She was still grinning, not embarrassed, cheeks flushed and breathing slightly heavily. The bottom of Lizzy's gown was stained with mud several inches deep, she had skinned the palm of her hand and she was carrying her elegant leather shoes in one hand, carelessly dangling them by the laces.

"Miss Caroline, Mrs. Hurst," she said. "I take it you are enjoying your walk?"

Elizabeth smiled a secret smile at Darcy who stared at her, dumbfounded. Her smile dropped slightly.

"You certainly look as if you have been enjoying the weather, Eliza," said Caroline. Lizzy laughed.

"I was on my walk and came across Peg here. She was lost and we had quite an ordeal coming back home," said Lizzy, looking down at her companion and laughing. Ordinarily Darcy would be amused to find his wife cavorting so, but as it was he found himself to be mortified. If he knew Caroline (and he did) the story of Lizzy barefoot would be all over the county and magnified a thousandfold. Just when he thought his married life perfect. For a traitorous moment he realized what his Aunt had meant when she spoke on the disasters of his marriage to his social inferior.

Lizzy affectionately sent the girl off to the kitchens and slipped her hand through her husband's arms. Her poise, if not her attire intact, she swept him back toward the house and invited the Bingleys to have dine with them.

* * *

Author's note (again): Thanks for reading. I always appreciate your feedback. If you notice I spell things differently and with extra vowels it's because where I come from that's how we spell things.


	7. Chapter VII

Chapter VII

_Present Day_

Lizzy found herself to be at home alone the day that Jane arrived at Pemberley.

Had she been facing the drive she would have seen the Bingley's carriage pull up, seen Jane shakily embark followed by two nursemaids. As it was she was in a room facing the back of the house, daydreaming, the embroidery she had been working on abandoned and did not see Jane until she was announced at the door.

Jane caught Lizzy by surprise. When her elder sister first glimpsed her Lizzy was sitting in an armchair with her feet tucked up underneath her, her shoes abandoned on the floor near her. Lizzy sprang nimbly out of her chair, landing neatly on two feet while her embroidery fell on the floor. A maid rushed forward to pick up the fallen hoop, looking not much shocked at her Mistress' behavior.

Elizabeth moved forward to her sister. Jane was still standing in the doorway, smiling slightly at Lizzy's antics. For the first moment Lizzy thought of nothing but embracing her sister, or basking in her presence, but in the next moment she pulled apart from her, held at her at arm's length and resisted the urge to gasp.

Where Lizzy had grown thinner over the past two years, Jane had grown stouter. She was pale, and had obviously not been spending any time out of doors. She looked drawn, her eyes looking weary. Over her gown she wore a shawl and seemed to be cold despite the warm weather.

Lizzy hurriedly dismissed the maid and the footman who had brought her up and led her sister to sit. Jane acquiesced easily. Lizzy took Jane's hands in her own.

"Are you well, my dearest?" asked Lizzy in concern.

Jane had noticed changes in her sister but they had happened gradually, not suddenly. Over the first year of her marriage it had primarily been Lizzy's attire that had changed, and over the second year it had been Lizzy's temperament. She was always relieved when she saw glimpses of the Lizzy of old, primarily when she caught Lizzy alone.

"Yes Lizzy, of course," said Jane, smiling a smile that did not reach her eyes.

"Where are the babies?" asked Lizzy. Jane studied her sister for a moment. Though Lizzy had never been one to fuss over other people's children, as a married woman she had a look in her eyes whenever the subject was broached that had started out as hopeful and was now weary.

"Rosalind fell asleep in the carriage and is being carried to a room by a manservant and Pippa is with her nursemaid," said Jane. Lizzy smiled. There were many mothers of Jane's station who would have not known such details.

"Jane…"

Jane looked at her sister and smiled a sweet, accepting smile.

"It was difficult, Lizzy. Rosalind needed me so desperately and I was so sick and so tired. Charles tried to comfort her, and he tried to help me and he could not do either. She was crying and trying to walk and I was so big and tired and I couldn't help her.

Lizzy said nothing, knowing that Jane was on the cusp of revealing her more intimate feelings.

"When Pippa finally arrived I thought I should die. Mama promised me that they would come easier each time but Pippa took much longer and hurt me so much I feared we should both die. And when she arrived, and after all that…"

"It's alright, you can tell me," said Lizzy.

"She wasn't even a boy."

"Was Charles..?"

"No, he was perfect. He praised her and showed her off to the neighbours and did everything he could to make me feel better. But I felt as though I had failed. That I should have to go through all that again, perhaps many more times, fills me with nerves."

Lizzy had known that Jane had had a difficult childbearing, but had not known the details. She found herself feeling worse for Jane than she did for her own childless state.

"You need to wait longer between them. Rosalind was not eighteen months when Philippa was born. You had not the chance to recover," said Lizzy with sympathy.

"I don't see how I am to do that," said Jane, smiling slightly.

Elizabeth looked at her sister in surprise. She had always imagined Bingley and Jane to have a lackluster romantic relationship. Every time she and Jane had discussed it Jane had become uncomfortable and implied indifference.

"You always said… that you did not particularly enjoy relations with your husband. That it was better to lie back and think of other things."

Jane stared at her sister in surprise.

"You and mama, you explained it to me. You told me it was terribly unpleasant."

Jane glanced toward the door. Lizzy could tell she was uncomfortable but refused to drop her gaze and let the subject fall.

"Do you not enjoy your relations with Darcy?" asked Jane.

Elizabeth had never had someone ask her such a thing. She thought of how they had been in the early days in their marriage, between the painful parts in the beginning and when she had begin to disappoint him so regularly that she began to put all her focus into improving herself.

"Yes. I do," she said frankly.

"He is my husband and I love him and our union had produced two beautiful girls. I enjoy it immensely. Really Lizzy, that you would take so personally something I said in passing two years ago. I daresay you did not enjoy the first time either."

Lizzy blushed. That indeed had been foolish of her. She wondered briefly if believing in her heart that she was different from other women by believing herself wanton and unladylike had deprived her of any enjoyment.

Jane looked at her sister in interest.

"You should not let other people's opinion get in the way of your marriage. Your marriage is private and has nothing to do with anyone else."

"I always feel like I'm letting him down. Like there is more I could be doing."

"No one feels perfect all the time. You are perfect almost all of the time, all we ever hear of you is that you threw another perfect soiree or that your newest dress has started a new fashion. I don't believe that Darcy really thinks so little of you," said Jane. Lizzy smiled at her. She'd missed Jane in her life, her practicality.

"It was difficult. I did so many things wrong. I couldn't believe the things I could get away with as a girl that I couldn't as a wife. And Georgiana knew everything, all the time."

"You need to get that girl married," said Jane.

"Yes. She's particular. I think she likes being needed here. I do love her, and I don't even believe it's all her fault. We fell in to a pattern where I would commit some sin and Darcy would frown but not say anything and Georgiana would tell me how a Darcy wife should behave and none of us would talk about it."

"It's not easy for me either, Lizzy. I think you thought it would be easier than this. And honestly, discussing feelings has never been your or Darcy's strong suit," said Jane.

Lizzy smiled slightly at this. It was their simplest, most obvious flaws that made everything so much harder for them.

They were interrupted when a servant Lizzy did not recognize appeared at the door, clutching the hand of a small child. Rosalind Elizabeth Bingley was clutching the hand of her nurse, having been hastily changed into a clean dress, her blond curls having been brushed. Her mother held out her arms to her and Rosalind dropped the hand of her nurse and ran toward her mother. She climbed on to her gently as if she knew Jane to be delicate.

"Rosie, did you find your room?" asked Jane. Rosalind rested a cheek against her mother and stuck a thumb in her mouth. Jane gently removed it.

"Yes. Pippa is sleeping," she said.

"Rosie, do you remember your Aunt Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth smiled at Rosalind, who looked doubtfully at her. Elizabeth had not seen her in six months, a lifetime to her niece.

"Yes," she said, lying. Rosalind was a trusting child. When Lizzy held out her arms to her Rosalind went in to them. Elizabeth tucked her chin over the top of Rosalind's head and inhaled her baby scent without meaning to. Rosie was sturdy and slightly round and had the perfect silky curls that Elizabeth remembered Jane having as a girl. Jane saw her sister's eyes close briefly and frowned in slight concern.

Jane started to say something when the door open and Darcy entered. Jane watched her brother-in-law closely and saw something like anguish pass over his eyes. Something more than the sight of his wife carrying a child when their own had not materialized.

Darcy walked toward Jane and offered her a quick hand squeeze and a kiss on the cheek, his attention clearly occupied by the child in his wife's arms. He held out his own hands to Rosalind, who succumbed easily. He had always had a knack with children. Rosalind let out a shriek of laughter and surprise as Darcy threw her in to the air and caught her again. He placed the hat he had been carrying on Rosie's head, who laughed again when it slipped over one eye at a rakish angle.

"Good show, Jane. Charlie will have his hands full keeping the young lads away, won't he?" asked Darcy. Jane smiled and Elizabeth found herself smiling with her. She looked more like the Jane of old when she smiled. It would have been a perfect moment for her had Darcy's expression not been a combination of elation and regret.

At that moment Fitzwilliam walked in, mercifully sparing them from discussing anything that was actually happening between them. He greeted Jane and if he was surprised to find her different from the last time he had seen her, he was gentleman enough not to show it. He shook Darcy's hand and nodded awkwardly at Elizabeth.

She felt like smacking him. She felt like smacking him and it showed on her face and both men looked in interest as the violence showed briefly on her face. Such things were becoming less common as every day passed.

Darcy let Rosie down, who toddled over to Jane. Fitz turned toward her and immersed himself in a conversation with Jane over child rearing while Darcy sent his wife a questioning glance. She flushed and shook her head almost imperceptibly. She knew she was only delaying the inevitable but could not yet think of a reason to tell Darcy why Fitz was so angry at her without explaining about Wickham.

Elizabeth realized uncomfortably that she was weaving a web of lies that revolved around keeping her husband in the dark. She rushed toward him and put her arm through his, hurriedly resolving to put aside the worries she had confided to her sister only moments ago.

"Perhaps Rosie would like to see the ducks in the pond," said Elizabeth, naming the first thing that came to mind. Everyone agreed it was a splendid idea and they all trooped out of the room behind Elizabeth and Darcy.


End file.
